


Festival of Trypticon

by Spoonsie2



Series: Space Vagabonds [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Aliens, Au world building, Brief Swindle and Thunderhoof appearances, Cyclonus doesn't understand Godzilla, Galvatron is still an idiot, Humans, Sorry for a misleading title but no ACTUAL appearance by Trypticon, Transformers AU, Worldbuilding, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2018-12-07 20:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11630856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoonsie2/pseuds/Spoonsie2
Summary: Neither wanted to talk to each other, it was awkward.Yet maybe an upcoming festival could be a chance for them to chat and for Gavin to learn more about these Decepticons.





	1. Chapter 1

The ship held a quiet hum, so ‘normal’ and uninterrupted it was like nothing had happened at all.

Not that a non-sentient machine would really be affected by the events of its occupants but it just felt remarkably… fine.

Gavin had clung to the bat he’d picked up, mindlessly staring at the room around him but none of it registered, he was vaguely aware of something leaving but that was it.  
Everything else was a blur with zero focus.

He’d barely heard the small whimper that escaped him when his position on the seat changed, his body stiffly sliding down in the chair until he was just curled up, over the arms and into the seat.  
He must’ve fallen asleep again, or blacked out.

Cyclonus on the other hand had gone straight to bed after all that.

Blobs, weird people who were fluent in the ancient tongue of his people.

Big-horned boss.

It weighed heavily on his chest as he lay flat and quiet in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Just like Gavin time left him and he eventually fell asleep.

Gavin awoke quickly.

He recognised the ship and finally understood generally the last few memories he had before collapsing on the chair.

He was probably unwelcome here too, not that he was welcome anywhere, he never was, he should jus- No, no more of that, not right now.

Gavin's hands tightened around the bat, his knuckles going white with effort.

It was something tangible.  
It was strong.  
It could protect him.  
It made him feel safer more importantly.  
And it quelled intrusive thoughts.

The pilot’s room was empty and Gavin straightened out his clothes and the awkwardly placed backpack until they were resting on him properly.

The door was open, so he left.  
Somewhere deep in his chest, he knew he didn’t really want to face Cyclonus again.

Not right now anyway.

It was an inevitable encounter, but he could attempt to waylay it.

He knew the direction he wanted, he could remember enough of this ship to move through it.  
At least to two places.

But now it was to the bedroom.  
The four doors welcomed him ominously like looming figures.

Curiosity and some pang of worry lead him to glance at the door opposite his.  
Still well-used, seemingly the only one of the four that had been opened much at all.

The other three held a neat, pristine quality as if not a soul had touched them.

At least the other occupied door didn’t open when Gavin opened his, the door still reacting to him. No doubt the only place here that would react to him.

It was just as he left it, empty but with a hint of a mess.

The backpack was rolled off his shoulders and another orange consumed.

It was hard.

He didn’t know what to do, not that he did much in the first place.  
But here, here he was really at a loss.

It wasn’t like he could just fiddle with things until he found something to do.  
Nothing here was written in a way he understood, and he understood nothing of the ship.

He didn’t want to go pressing just any button, they’d either not respond to him or cause something bad to happen.  
Gavin already had a lingering knot in the gut telling him he was in for it the moment he caused more trouble than he was no doubt in.

He really was lost on ideas here.

“Uh, Computer! Time?” It worked on TV maybe it would work here.  
…  
It was worth a shot.

Outside nothing but stars sailed past like a permanent night-sky, offering no help whatsoever.

Well, a planet in the distance was an intense shade of magenta and for the time it lazily passed them by its oddness provided a few moments of interest before the quiet embrace of the room came back in.

It didn’t help, Gavin twiddled with his fingers.  
He felt like something HAD to happen, it just HAD to, right?

It couldn’t be hours of nothing happening, that would be boring.

He pulled off his sweater, back down to his t-shirt.  
It didn’t last long his arms felt itchy and bad so he had to put it back on.

One day he’d be better with his body, but not today.

Once more, stood in the strange empty room.

He was in space now.

That was something, right?

It should be, yet it felt like he was in a familiar void of just… no idea.

That was it, it seemed.  
A day of literally doing nothing.

Well, there was a bathroom, a day of nothing but cleaning, probably.  
It was better than nothing.

In the other room, similar thoughts were happening but through a different mind and other experiences.

Cyclonus scrubbed as his arm one last time.  
There was nothing left on it but he felt better to wash and scrub at the slightly smoother areas left by the blobs touch.

Normally his exo-plates were rough but now there were unfamiliar patches of smooth like the blob had been gradually eating away at him.

He exhaled a sharp breath through his teeth.

Back to sleep.

Outside he heard a soft thump.  
Another door.

That bloody alien, the human.

No, that was a problem for later, he could just deal with it when he went to go get something to eat.  
Which he could do later as well.

He could just do everything later, there wasn’t anything for him to do either.

He had no water filter to replace, he’d lost the damn thing and that’s beside the point.

He didn’t WANT to do anything.

His bed suffered a quick, irate kick and a mumbled word of anger.

He perched on the side of it and looked to his bedside table.  
Without a second thought he grabbed the photo on it and turned it towards the wall, he’d already felt bad enough over the past day he didn’t want another pang of guilt looking at that.

Though he immediately felt guilty for turning it around, like the action was of supreme disrespect and he swivelled the image around again.  
Maybe he should just avoid the picture’s gaze.

He hadn’t spoken to his family for so long.

Refusing to look anywhere other than the picture frame Cyclonus grabbed a datapad and looked through it for potential things to do.  
The info bar at the top of the screen flashed out to him with an alluring call of activity and things to do.

Thumbing at the device he was only briefly confused when it brought up a calendar rather than a to-do note.

It was still something to do.  
Yet it made him glance to the photo of his parents, it was a communal event his calendar was alerting him to.

There came that guilty pang again.

It wasn’t like he meant to put it off for so long…

With a bite to his lip, he looked at the calendar again, the festival was starting tomorrow.

While not his exact thoughts Cyclonus knew exactly what he was feeling when he had an idea of what to do next.  
Call Swindle, ask about the big-horned-boss thing and pretend he wasn’t so lonely at the same time.

Mentally apologising to the photograph of his family once more, Cyclonus got up and left for the control room.

A few strides and he was swinging his chair around and sitting in it, pulling up his communication screen.

He’d sat down quite hard and pulled up a screen in one motion, the noise drowned out anything else in the room but he could still hear.

The screen was already flashing as it rang but it was not enough to drown out the sound of hard breaths as the alien breathed heavily through its odd nasal cavity.  
Cyclonus quietly peered over his shoulder, it really was the damn human.  
Still here, like a hard to treat case of Rust Mites.

It refused to look at him though, across its lap it held onto a wooden bat tightly as if the object was its lifeline. Certainly seemed like it acted as his lifeline to reality as the human's eyes were wide and clearly glazed with a layer of panic.

The screen hummed and brought Cyclonus’s attention away as Swindle somehow managed to fill the screen with his shit-eating grin.

“Well hooooowdy there pal!” For some reason, he was still speaking in the Earthen tongue, “What do I owe this call to?”

Cyclonus found himself silently staring at the other Decepticon like a sudden block had materialised in his brain as it tried to wrap around this… life.

“You rang to stare mindlessly at me? Well, whatever keeps me distracted…” Swindle frowned glancing over his shoulder “Oh! I see you still have your little friend, not dead yet it seems or scared off, are you acting nicer to people now?”

“No, It just ended up back on my ship, I don’t know I was a bit distracted by some Korlonium Acid you know” Cyclonus eventually responded.

Having turned to look at the aliens once he was mentioned, Gavin caught Swindles face melt into a look of horror at the name of this substance.

“What! Korlonium? You KNOW that stuff is not sold an-” His words began to run together as he babbled against this substance.

“I found some at Unicron’s Head” Cyclonus interrupted him, “Someone had sold it, and the buyer has intents to use it for its ‘intended purpose’, something about a ‘big-horned boss’ I think we can gather a few hints there”

Swindle’s face fell before a disgusted sneer pulled across his face.  
The camera went black for a while but the speakers still broadcast shuffling and alien squeaks, until a distressed squawk announced the screen turning back on.

Thunderhoof was now on-screen, arm on Swindle as he used his height and weight to lean on and press down on the latter.

“So… Yous gots somethin’ for me?” He had a much more cheery sneer on his face “Good thing you rang then, my… Buddy here was showing me his… discount stock if yous knows what I mean, a little, eh, compensation y’know?”

Swindle grunted and pushed Thunderhoof to the side. Well, he attempted it.  
“Well of course! You’re looking at the best dealer around!” He ignored the disbelieving scoffs that line earned, “Hell I’m sure I can get some nice little Earth goods for the small one there!” He winked “Won’t cost a pretty Shanix! I assume you have some by now...”

Cyclonus ignored him and Gavin stared blankly, at the very least he’d figured out Shanix was some kind of money as Cyclonus began explaining what happened.  
Apparently he was just going back to his ship when a barrel of this Korlonium sailed past and he went to investigate, he explained how he was ‘vastly outnumbered’ - A line Gavin frowned at, he didn’t remember that many creeps hanging about with the slug - and how that was cause for him to leave it for a better day.

Thunderhoof nodded listening to all of it.  
“Huh so ‘e thinks yous workin’ for me? Well, I’m sure I can afford your services, I got a job or two yous can take” He pondered.

“Fuck off” Cyclonus was unimpressed.

“Well then I can hire th’ tiny one, for the best with Korlonium, Lerge thinks ‘e can take over my empire! Hah!” Thunderhoof jabbed a finger at the screen

“Fuck off” Gavin parroted.

“Well ain’t that all fine and dandy!” Swindle shoved himself back on-screen, clasping his hands together, “I’m sure Thunderhoof now has to go think of a way to deal with this as I leave! I’m assuming you’re heading back too?”

Cyclonus grunted.

“Well, I’M heading back home, no better time to mend some issues during a festival, right?” He grinned widely before it fell a little “Plus I can fix some Combaticon-issues under the friendly guise”

“Oh yeah, the Festival a’ Trypticon” Thunderhoof never left the room it seemed and Swindle looked like he could shrink back into his shell “I’m sure my new bestest bud here can take me back to partake while ‘e shows me more o’ his ‘special offers’?”

Swindle scowled all conversation leaving him as he flicked off the screen and let the silence roar back through the ship.


	2. Chapter 2

“You… Have festivals?” Gavin finally pierced the silence with a quiet, questioning remark.

Cyclonus made a sharp clicking noise, his quills half-flaring open in a lazy, but obviously irritated motion.  
“They have nothing to do with YOU” He hissed.

“Oh, um, fair ‘nough” Gavin squeaked quietly, wondering if coming back to this room was the right thing to do.   
He should’ve stayed and washed properly rather than wipe water over his face and leave.  
At least he wasn’t being killed.

“Don’t know of any human festivals, I mean I can’t think of any, I can only think of music festivals…”  
Cyclonus shut him up with a noise comparable to a snort despite not having a nose to snort with, the noise sounding far louder than it was in the dominating ‘emptiness’ the room seemed to hold.

“W…” There was a small battle for dominance between emotions and common sense.

Emotions were angry and his instinctive and immediate reaction was to be mad and yell, fight and stand his ground.  
Common sense pointed out he was at a serious disadvantage and only had a wooden implement to defend himself with.

“Well, I’m sure there’s PLENTY OF FUCKING PLACES TO CHUCK ME OFF BEFORE YOU GET BACK RIGHT!?” The sentence burst into a shout before Gavin could grapple his urge to fight back into submission “You’re going home right? Just dump me off on the way! You can go back to skulking about on your ship or crawling around with your weird-ass buddies! I wouldn’t want to meet more sleazeball salesmen or mafia-moose-bosses or whatever-the-fuck that guy’s deal is anyway!”

Cyclonus’s shoulders arched as his lip curled his eyes went dark as his gaze stayed furiously ahead of him as if mustering the power to bore a hole through the ship.  
Even if they weren’t facing each other the curled, snarled lip was enough to make Gavin horribly aware that his teeth were comparable to daggers and the lone human wondered if now was the time he could magically learn he had shrinking powers and escape.  
The fact Cyclonus didn’t make a noise as he curled and sneered only made it worse, like a crushing sense of danger, like a coiled predatory spring.

“I’m not going home” He snorted, standing up he shoved the chair he was on roughly sending it spinning as he stalked towards the door storming out.

It left Gavin clutching at his chest as if searching for the puncture wound he must’ve got or whatever other kind of fatal laceration left on him, he must’ve been struck.  
Surely there was no way he got away with that.  
He must’ve been hit, he had to have been.  
The dry fabric of his sweater scrunched up beneath his hand and no wet sensation seeped from anywhere it should’ve been.  
Well, nothing that wasn’t a decent layer of panic-sweat anyway.

The common sense part of his brain promptly lost another battle as Gavin grinned.  
He technically ‘won’ that one. He could stand his ground, he won’t back down, good, even if he died, fuck it, he’ll go out the way he always wanted!  
Fighting others.

Being eaten or getting thrown away, he guessed he was at least going to make a show of it.  
If they were really his two options that is.

Get it over and done with, rip the plaster off the cut and it won't hurt as much as a slow peel.

Still clutching the bat Gavin hopped off the chair, the nerves, the tension, it all rippled through him.  
It made his heart feel like a balloon almost full of water wibbling and wobbling in his chest.

It was an uneasy feeling yet it was mixed with the minor exhilaration of, well, everything.

The corridor was empty, but there was a distinct trail of angry muttering and clattering chunks of metal to follow. The sound rose from the lower level, only getting louder and louder as Gavin followed it.

The source was the same room Cyclonus had ‘preened’ himself in before the whole strange orange fiasco only he wasn’t prepping himself in front of the mirror he was shifting something around, thumping angrily as he went.

Cyclonus appeared to be shifting some kind of altar about, there was a metal table like base, with a smaller secondary table jutting out from it like a step. It had a dark magenta cloth draped across it but it was small enough that it was not interrupted by the small candle holders on the table. A pair on the bigger, main part of the table, and a smaller pair on the lower portion.

Or at least they looked like candle holders to Gavin, small metal dishes with a small sharp spike in the middle.

The main part of the table, however, was thick and strong, a part of it looked like a strange pair of clamps like it was designed to hold something heavy.

He might’ve been on his hands and knees but Cyclonus slammed something to the ground, snapping Gavin’s attention away from the table-altar he had set up and back to him.  
He was leaning over a large stone square.

Thick and with a purple tint around the edges like tiny cracks of colour Cyclonus heaved the slab up and with another loud slam he practically rammed the thing into the altar’s ‘clamps’.

Curiosity finally eclipsed all confrontationalism from his mind and Gavin shuffled closer to the altar, the image on the stone drawing all attention. He was stopped from really advancing when Cyclonus made a sharp trill warning away from getting closer.

The stone tablet was decorated with an image of a… Dinosaur…

An actual Dinosaur…

The beast was depicted with stars around its head and waves… or flames… around its feet.  
The creature itself had a notable crest upon its head and was depicted with many sharp pointed lines with small decorative lines within it, it reminded Gavin a lot of old, old oooold pictures of gods and the like. Maybe a little like those Aztec pictures he’d seen but different.

Regardless it was still an image of a T.rex-like creature.

A T.rex that was presented upon an altar…

Presumably to be worshipped…

A Dinosaur…

“It’s a Dinosaur…” Gavin finally blurted out.

“THAT is Trypticon!” Cyclonus hissed at him, quills half-risen in a defensive gesture.

“You’re having a festival over this… Trypticon Dinosaur?” Gavin stood still squinting at the tablet as if it’d come to life.

“The festival is in its honor, yes” Cyclonus sounded indignant, he’d taken to dusting off the tablet and altar.

“Is it religious?” The thought just tumbled out of Gavin's mouth, it made sense as a question in his head, the altar was a bit… fancy and he couldn’t think of other reasons to hold a festival in honor of a Dinosaur.

The question seemed to freeze Cyclonus, he rolled back on his knees and sat there staring at the altar as if actually processing the question.

“That… word isn’t quite translated well… like, worshipping?” He still did not look at Gavin but he cocked his head in confusion.

“Yeah, pretty much, I dunno, wasn’t into it really” Gavin shrugged, suddenly acutely aware he had no idea how else to explain the concept. No one had really taught him about it, he didn’t pay attention if they did and he was not raised with it as part of his life.  
It kind of existed in some odd bubble he was no part of.

“Yes”

“What?” Gavin readjusted himself to focus on the alien again, rather than rake his brain for any way to explain religion to an alien.

“We do… worship him” Cyclonus finally seemed to side-eye him, the bright red of his iris seemed to flash lightly compared to the rest of his dull-coloured eye “But not… like… worship-worship…”

Oh great, even he seemed confused about how to communicate this crap.

“How? I mean… How do you worship a dino… Uh, this Trypticon?” Curiosity had smothered all confrontationalism and was now pummelling the remains of it in an overly dramatic way as Gavin genuinely wanted to hear this.

“The great beast is an important figure to Decepticons! Uh, primarily us, but still important! He is strong and powerful… We, ah, worship… for his protection in battle?” Cyclonus was back on his feet and squinted at nothing as if the words he was trying to say were laid out before him and he was trying to pick out the best, most appropriate ones.

“So, it’s like a God to you? This great beast, like great in size or what?” Gavin wanted to step a bit closer to the altar but he could still hear the indignant trilling sound Cyclonus made earlier.

“God… God…. God… uuhf, no no no, not God, lower than that but high up” The word hit a realisation and he figured it out “He is an icon for us! We Decepticons are proud of it and our traditions!”

“So like my earlier question, how do you worship this?” Gavin rolled his shoulders a bit in an exaggerated ‘I don’t know’ motion.

“We give honor to it! The great beast Trypticon is A symbol of power! Legends go as far to state he was the one who set fire to the sky and gave us the stars! With his might, he destroyed a blightful monster and the miasma of despair it brought upon us!”

Gavin stood back a little or at least leaned back, he wasn’t expecting a sudden ramble about this thing.

The image on the tablet did seem to depict some smoke coming from its face.  
Did they really have a legend that some big dinosaur breathed fire into space and made stars?  
Hold on, Big-ass fire-breathing dinosaur?  
Fought a monster too?

Gavin frowned a little and managed to bring himself to get back in the word-train that was spilling out of Cyclonus.

“Our ancestors gave offerings for its protection! It taught us the value of our strength and power! Our leader’s throne is decorated with his image, heh, the more superstitious of those believed he had been blessed directly by Trypticon for his feats and power to take control!”

“Uh,” Gavin tried to get his mind back into gear completely “So you believed it made stars, by like breathing fire?”

“Oh no, not now we don’t, not really, we know what stars are” He huffed “It was just how the ancient not-space worthy ancestors of our kind explained them!”

“Yet you believe your leader was blessed by it?” Gavin couldn’t lie, he felt some irritation bubble up at the snappy response.

“We still pay respects to our culture!” Cyclonus hissed a definite streak of irritation or anger peeking through “He is important to us! We hold this festival in his honor! For strength and power in battle! And with such strength and power, it seemed fitting that Megatron be decorated with his mark, regardless of if you think it’s real or not.”

“Right so what exactly does one have to do for people to think you’ve been blessed by a giant fire-breathing dinosaur?” Gavin crossed his arms feeling a bit more amused by this whole notion now, the motion he made was slightly awkward with the bat in his hand but he still managed.

“Well… Megatron chewed someone’s head off in battle” Cyclonus stated matter-of-factly.

“You fucking WHAT?” Gavin spluttered.

It was not what he expected to hear.  
Not at all.

“He ripped off the old king’s head with his teeth and became leader!” Cyclonus grinned, showing off his ‘daggers’ again, somehow he seemed to be greatly enjoying the shock this caused his ‘guest’.

“And THAT is something blessed by THAT!?!”The bat was dropped to the floor as Gavin’s hands waved around like drunk flies before vaguely gesturing at the depiction of Trypticon.

“Well, yeah. Did you not hear me say we worship him for strength and protection in battle?” His smile had faded but it was still a large, proud smirk.

“You pray to a dinosaur for strength in battle, and you all follow the rule of a nut job that bit off your old leader’s head!?”

“Yes”

“Fucking hell… That’s wild…”

“Like I said, culture, he’s important to us” Cyclonus suddenly became cold and stony faced as he sharply turned away, kneeling before the altar he brushed away at the four small ‘dishes’ on it.

Fiddling about with something unseen he pulled at the spikes in the centre of each dish and they hummed to life with a blue light that flickered almost like real candles. 

The big purple, horned crab-like alien knelt before an altar for a big-ass fire-breathing dinosaur…

“So... Trypticon’s a bit like an alien Godzilla then?” Gavin clicked.


	3. Chapter 3

Gavin wasn’t quite expecting to have a large alien suddenly lean back so he was sat completely on the floor looking at him quizzically.

“Go...zell ah?” He repeated unsurely, but in a way that felt as if he would’ve said it right if he hadn’t slowed down to try and say it as he did.

“Yeah, Godzilla” Gavin ignored his mispronunciation and waved one hand briefly as if trying to physically turn the cogs of his brain, “He’s a huge dark dinosaur, with lotsa’ spikes on his back, big flat ones and he breathes fire too!... Sorta?” Gavin hoped that would be enough yet Cyclonus was still eyeing him in a slightly curious manner “Uh, yeah, he’s also fought off monsters an’ shit? Strong thing, call him the king of the, uh, monsters too!”

The small exchange seemed to leave a lingering air in the room that made it feel bigger and emptier than it was as Gavin quietly waited for a response about his minor description of the movie star.

“I… see…” Cyclonus finally seemed to grasp enough of it to be satisfied, “Dih-no-saw you called him that, they even look similar?”

“Dinosaur, yeah yeah, they look similar” Gavin nodded and gestured at the picture of Trypticon in agreement, kinda hoping to end it here, the prospect of continuing this suddenly feeling awkward.

Cyclonus seemed not to pay attention to him as he stood up, putting out the lights on the altar his voice had returned to a flatter colder tone.  
“The Festival is not until tomorrow” he stated.

“Right right, the big dino-festival or whatever” Gavin still shrugged, “Whatever you do for that…”

“Whatever we do!” Cyclonus seemed a bit riled, “Did you not listen?” Ah, that explains it “He is one we worship for strength! How else would we honour him but fight!” It may have been imagination but his voice seemed to falter for a moment, “We gather... together, in his honour and wrestle and fight; the winner of it all is pronounced the champion… then we gather, and feast! The festival lasts as long as it takes for all participants to have fought and eaten!”

It was silence again, Cyclonus was making that somewhat-huffy noise as if exhaling angrily through the nose he didn’t have, his quills were raised to their highest point even twitching slightly.  
He’d definitely pissed him off, not good.

Gavin frowned.  
For the time being, he was stuck with this alien, this grumpy antisocial alien who was vastly prideful.  
At the very least he could try and smooth over his time here. Again.

That was it!  
Of course, he could!  
This stupid alien knew nothing about him!

“Well maybe I can go watch this festival one day” Gavin began remembering Cyclonus’s remarks of not going anywhere “After all, I am the champion of… my area on Earth!”  
For extra effect he retrieved the bat from the floor, leaning on it with his chest puffed out.

Cyclonus’s quills suddenly drooped down, folding up until they were against his back, his head twitched and turned as he slowly bent around to look at the human.  
“You… Champ… ion?” he frowned, not quite disbelievingly but still evidently suspicious.

“Aaaah don’t sound like that! I got Swindle on the floor din’ I? I’m a surprise in a purple package!” Gavin grinned, feeling more confident in his attempt to make an impression.

Unfortunately, it prompted Cyclonus to snort derisively.  
“Swindle is a con-man, we are so much more than he!” The prideful part of him seeped through again.

“But still! I’m just, uh” Gavin grabbed for the first things he could think of, the height difference between himself and Cyclonus brought his eyes to the row of spikes on his forearm “I’m soft! I don’t have a shell! Or spikes! I still got him though!”

Cyclonus eyed him up again, still with a hint of suspicion but less than before. It still made Gavin nervous like something cold prickled at his spine, or maybe that was just panic and exhilaration at the lying?  
Then Cyclonus’s face completely changed as he jabbed a clawed finger in his direction.  
“Then what is the point of what you wear if not for protection?” He squinted.

“Oh… Well, I left my champion's armour at home, I mean, don’t want to get the special stuff out unless it’s for an occasion right? I don’t NEED to flaunt it anyway! Our clothes” Gavin added heavily to that word while pinching his jumper hoping the name would stick “Are just to keep us warm and social obligations, no one wants to see someone without their trousers on! We, uh, we don’t think that’s right” he gave the quickest explanation of clothes that he could.

“Hm, seems common” Cyclonus mumbled.

He’d turned back to the image of Trypticon, leaving Gavin thankful that of all things he’d asked about it was merely his clothing.   
It made Gavin want to sigh and expel the remains of the heavy panicked knot in his gut and chest as his lie seemed to fly with the big guy, but that might’ve given him away as a liar he was.

“So, you’re not going to go for champion this… year?” Gavin managed a lopsided, cocky grin hoping it would continue to smother his blatant lie.

“No.” Cyclonus’s response was short and sharp, bordering on a shout as his quills snapped to attention with a hard clicking sound. He now glared at the tablet, eyes unreadable but evidently angry.

With some of the few interactions he’d seen of this guy, Gavin began to wonder if he’d done something that lead to him being here....  
Pissed someone off? Broke the law?  
It was not hard to tell he was avoiding something or, refusing to acknowledge something.  
Whatever it was it was something that really weighed heavily on him.

It’s easy to tell when someone else was doing that when you did it yourself.

Gavin squinted at Cyclonus a little more, staring at his back.  
The tiny tail he had remained motionless aside from the tip twitching every now and then.  
It made Gavin arch his brows, it seemed out of place and almost comical compared to everything else.

But now it was becoming awkward, Cyclonus had effectively put up defensive bars preventing any further conversation or chance at prying into his past and life.  
The room was quiet and the ship hummed lightly, filling the place with the bare minimum of background noise.

The wall Cyclonus had previously preened himself in front of was still relatively bad at reflecting, looking like a scratched rock that happened to be reflective. Then again dirt and dust on a large portion of it didn’t seem to help, more things than Gavin cared to realise were actually covered in dirt as if Cyclonus just stopped bothering to clean unless he needed something.

Cyclonus still didn’t seem to move; frozen, listless and just not paying attention to anything.  
The awkward feeling was changing into a feeling of creepiness and unsettling vibes as Gavin twiddled with the bat in his hands, the sound of it shuffling against the floor nearly echoing in their shared silence.

Gavin took a step backwards before finally turning and heading out the door into the ship’s hallway.  
Guess it was a day of doing nothing in the room he’d effectively ‘claimed’.

The door thumped quietly behind him, looking over his shoulder he’d seen he’d been followed out of the room.  
Instead of continuing to move or doing anything Cyclonus just seemed to stare at the now shut door; his claws hovering over the door’s panel.

It was still awkward.

Gavin was now completely unsure what the hell this guy was playing at now as he just stared, not doing anything or acknowledging anything as if silently waiting for some cue to do something.

Gavin squinted slightly, still not turning around to face him fully.  
Carefully he took a few steps forwards and slowly Cyclonus thumbed the control panel by the door and stood upright.

What the hell?

He was just doing nothing and only ‘remembering’ to move when he did.

Gavin felt something roll over in him.  
So eager to fan his own ego about his kind yet from the prior call with Swindle Gavin was starting to suspect some of his attitude came from some kind of self-imposed idiocy.

“You think nothing will change right?” Gavin bolted upright at the woman’s voice.

Wait, no, brain don’t do this, Gavin scrunched up his face as he realised he was remembering a memory of a long time ago.

“It won’t unless you try to, I’m just here to hel-”

“Ugh, punch me in the face!” Gavin growled at the memory-voice before spluttering awkwardly.

The voice was in his head, that was not.

That was spoken aloud.

And angrily.

Gavin spun on the spot to face the other inhabitant, his expression snapping back to that of a wide grin attempting to mask the embarrassment of his ‘slip-up’.

Cyclonus has turned to face him and was looking him squarely in the face.  
It was confused but a good streak of the expression made it seem like he would act out Gavin’s words.

Fuck them, he’s doing this on his own.

He can do this, and he doesn’t need flipping memories of mandated courses of assholes thinking a lifetime of shit can be swept under a rug in a few weeks.

He can do this.

He’s gonna make a new life for himself, no one knew him.

No one knew him.

He can be anything.

“Yeah, punch me, man!” Gavin’s inner turmoil of uncomfortable feelings was masked once more “Told ya’ I’m a champion! I can fight too! Just try me!”

Cyclonus stood upright, undoubtedly confused now.  
“You… You want to fight?” There was an almost mocking tone of disbelief in his words.

That was enough and Gavin felt his default move of borderline anger rile up again.

“What!? I’m soft and squishy yeah but I’m gonna use this bat and I’ll fight you! Fuck anyone else! See if I can catch the eye of y’ Trypticon!” Gavin brimmed with a rush of pre-fight excitement as dipped his hand to the idea of participating in the alien festival.

That was something Cyclonus seemed to get as his face still held some degree of scepticism but acceptance of this offer.

Gavin hopped back, gripping the bat in his hands putting a little bit of space between them in the hallway; his grin having never left his face.  
“Yeah, let’s start this festival early! Let’s get it on!” 

Fuck yeah.

He’s gonna do this.

Screw you!

The urge to disregard anything other than the prospect of joining an excuse to fight won out and snuffed any other thoughts.

He will earn respect no matter what!

He will prove himself!

If he has to take part in an alien’s wrestling holiday to do it then so be it!

Why not cheer the crab-fucker up too? You’re not left out of the festival now! Not while Gavin has some unknown thing he needed to prove to the Universe before knowing what it even is.

Cyclonus was muttering under his breath, probably something to do with the festival, Gavin didn’t know.  
He was just taking part in something and getting a fight out of it, after all, it was something he could do.

Cyclonus seemed to be done with his muttering and eyed Gavin, no doubt sizing him up.

Gavin spread his arms and stood tall, he was about to say something along the lines of:  
“Come fight this champion”  
When his world was filled with flashes of different shades of purple, and zero air as it all left him in a painful gush.

Everything blacked out then, at least.


End file.
